


Life Rule

by thealpacalypse



Category: Twelfth Grade (or Whatever) (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Other, Tumblr Prompt, Vic turns out to be completely socially awkward and it's my new headcanon, accidental misgendering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 01:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7146239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealpacalypse/pseuds/thealpacalypse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it came to life in general, Vic Caius had one simple rule: Stick to the stuff you know and you won’t get any unpleasant surprises. And he would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for a charming stranger called Foster, who makes Tammi's birthday party a lot more pleasant to Vic than it has any right to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Rule

**Author's Note:**

> A tumblr anon sent me the prompt "37. Eyes, Vic and Foster". This escalated completely. I'm not sorry.
> 
> Please keep in mind that it's 3 in the morning and this is not beta'd and I don't know what I'm doing, thank.

When it came to life in general, Vic Caius had one simple rule:

Stick to the stuff you know and you won’t get any unpleasant surprises.

 

This philosophy had brought him far in life – he did well in school, he had his small, overseeable circle of friends, he had enough pocket money to cater to all his gaming needs… in Vic’s eyes, that was him pretty much settled.

 

Some days were cursed though, even if you stayed in your lane and did everything just right. And today was such a day for Vic.

 

It began in the afternoon.

 

“I’m not coming to the party tonight,” Curt said.

 

And yeah, it made sense, Vic wouldn’t really feel like partying either, if he had found out his father was sick like that. That seriously sucked for Curt and Vic understood. But…

 

“Then I’ll stay here with you,” Vic said, but Curt shook his head. Curt wanted to be alone. Which meant that Vic had to go to the party, because otherwise he would have to hang around their room when he really wanted to give his best friend the space he needed.

 

So Vic went to the party. And that was the second unpleasant thing that night, because yeah alright, Vic liked parties, but this… This was Tammi’s party, and Vic didn’t even know Tammi that well, or anyone there really, and Vic hadn’t been to a party without Curt since… no, actually, Vic had never been to a party without Curt.

 

That meant he would actually have to talk to people. People he didn’t know. How awful.

 

At first, Vic’s activities alternated between hanging out with Sam and Drew and eating pretzels at the snack bar. Then, Sam was suddenly gone and Drew was talking to Tammi’s girlfriend, so Vic stayed with the snacks. It got really unpleasant when the snack bar ran out of pretzels.

 

Vic looked around the room, hands shoved into his jeans pockets, thinking about his options.

 

  1. He could switch to garlic bread. But Curt had a very sensitive nose and he would complain, so better not.  
  

  2. He could start to drink some alcohol. Apparently that made people loosen up and become conversational, Vic could tell by looking around. But then again, he didn’t have much experience with alcohol, and right here and now, with none of his friends around, it was probably not the safest environment to start.  
  

  3. He could leave. Not really an option though, because leaving meant either going back to his and Curt’s room when Curt wanted to be alone, or hanging out in Oren’s room – and as much as he loved Oren, he wasn’t really too keen to listen to Oren’s wallowing in self-pity over Liv.  
  

  4. He could sit on that very comfy looking couch in the corner over there and wait for Sam to come back, or Drew to end his conversation.



 

Upon further consideration, Vic decided that the last option was indeed the best. The couch was abandoned, Sam had to be somewhere, and Drew’s conversation couldn’t go on forever, right?

 

So he grabbed a cup and some Pepsi, sat down on that couch – it was even comfier than it looked – and pretended to be busy texting. (He actually did send a text to Curt: _how u holdin up? let me kno if you need anything._ He didn’t expect an answer though; he knew that Curt really meant it when he said he wanted to be alone.)

 

He was completely engrossed in a game of Temple Run when somebody sat down next to him. Looking up absentmindedly, he was expecting either Sam or Drew, but it was a stranger. This unpleasant surprise made him die immediately in the game. He hurried to put his phone away.

 

The stranger was looking at him with a mischievous grin – somehow challenging, but not unfriendly, Vic noticed. Upon closer inspection Vic realized that it wasn’t a complete stranger – he had seen that person before, they were Tammi’s friend, but Vic couldn’t remember their name. Vic’s hands were sweaty when he carefully grinned back.

 

“Hi,” Tammi’s friend said, still grinning.

 

“Umm… hi,” Vic replied. He took a closer look at the stranger, hopelessly trying to remember their name. When he couldn’t, he resorted to a secret trick Curt had once shown him: Introducing yourself and hoping that the other person would do the same.

 

“Hi,” Vic said again, biting his tongue and quietly cursing himself for being so nervous suddenly, “hi, I’m Vic…tor. Umm. Vic, actually.”

 

The stranger’s grin turned into a winning smirk when they replied, “I know.”

 

It made Vic’s heart stumble. Why couldn’t people just stick to the given rules of society and introduce themselves back, goddammit? “I,” he began, and then again, because his voice had been ridiculously raspy the first time, “I don’t even know why I said that. Nobody has called me Victor in years. Actually, I think even before that it was only teachers and my grandma. Not that you really care about that, I suppose, but… uhh…”

 

The stranger laughed. “Am I making you nervous?” they asked, eyes glinting amusedly.

 

Vic’s throat was dry. His cup was empty. Everything about this situation was the exact opposite of his life rule. He nodded.

 

“I’m sorry,” the stranger said and laughed again. “I just came over here because you looked lonely and interesting. Had I known that you were preoccupied with a game of Temple Run, I wouldn’t have interrupted you of course.”

 

Vic could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. Why was this person so damn good in making him uncomfortable?

 

But then the stranger extended a hand, one that had been resting on the strings of a ukulele, Vic only noticed now. Hesitantly, Vic mirrored the movement. The stranger shook his hand, their fingers maybe lingering a millisecond too long on Vic’s wrist before they slowly let go.

 

“I’m Foster.”

 

 

 

Vic wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, but hours later his sides hurt from laughing too much, he was on a sugar high from drinking an unhealthy amount of Pepsi, and he was still talking to Foster, only interrupted from time to time by one of Foster’s songs.

 

“Dude, where did you learn to play like that?” Vic asked, his cheeks flushed. Foster was really, really good at this whole music thing and Vic couldn’t help being completely impressed.

 

Foster smiled. “I’m mostly an autodidact to be honest,” they explained. “My art knows no teachers, therefore it’s truly free.”

 

“Duuuude,” Vic nodded approvingly, smiling brightly and uncontrollably.

 

A strange look flashed over Foster’s face, and Vic wondered for a second what was going on there until it hit him.

 

“Oh shit,” he blurted out, “fuck, shit, I shouldn’t have called you dude, right? It’s just, I’ve never really, umm. Shit. Sorry.” He bit his lip and stared at his tense hands, hoping he didn’t make Foster hate him now.

 

“Oh, no, that’s fine, really.” Foster’s voice sounded strangely soft, something Vic hadn’t heard before in the past few hours. “I just noticed that you have the most adorable dimples when you smile.”

 

That was when all the alarms went off in Vic’s brain. He did not take compliments well, not at all. He was literally the worst at taking compliments. This conversation was doomed.

 

“Umm,” Vic stammered, “umm, uh, you have beautiful eyes?”

 

What. The. Fuck.

 

Had he really just said that? Had he honestly just told someone who was basically a stranger that they had beautiful eyes? _Beautiful_ , of all the words he could have used?! Fuck. (Not that it wasn’t true though. Vic had spent the bigger part of the last hours trying not to stare at those very… nice? Aesthetically pleasing? Confusing, charming… eyes.)

 

“I- I mean,” he hurried to correct, “I should, umm, really go find my friend Sam?”

 

Vic scrambled to his feet, feeling kind of dizzy. He shouldn’t have had that much sugar, really.

 

Foster on the couch sighed and plucked a few strings on their ukulele. “Yeah alright, ‘no homo’ or whatever, I get it. Relax.”

 

Before Vic could think properly, he replied, “No. No no no, that’s not –“ Oh God, everything about this got worse by the second. He turned his face towards the ceiling and closed his eyes. Maybe if he prayed hard enough, the ground would open up and swallow him? That would be quite welcoming actually.

 

“It’s not?” Foster asked, and Vic could almost hear their raised eyebrow.

 

Fingers were softly touching the back of Vic’s hand, lending weight to Foster’s question.

 

For seconds, Vic stood like that, eyes closed, Foster’s touch against his hand. Then he exhaled and shook his head.

 

“Can we just…” he finally opened his eyes. “Umm, I should still go see where my friends are. I’ll… see you later?”

 

It was definitely a question, but Foster didn’t answer. They just smiled in a way that seemed somehow mysterious, their eyes glinting, but maybe a little… sad? No, it was arrogant to think that, Vic decided, probably just a trick of his mind.

 

He needed to get out of here.

 

Sam was in the kitchen with some camera that wasn’t his own, apparently looking at some footage. When Vic stumbled into the kitchen, Sam looked up.

 

“Oh man, are you okay? You look spooked,” Sam said. Before Vic was even able to come up with an answer, Sam’s eyes widened. “Is everything alright with Curt?” he asked.

 

_Oh shit_. Vic felt overwhelmingly guilty – his best friend was probably at his lowest point in life right now, and in the last few hours, Vic had forgotten all about him. He fished his phone out of his pocket and checked it: two new messages from Curt.

 

_no worries. talked to mum on the phone again, feelin better now._

 

And:

 

_goin 2 bed now come baxk whenever u wan t_

Vic exhaled in relief. At least Curt hadn’t been sending out distress signals while Vic had been talking to Foster. That made Vic’s whole betrayal possibly a bit less severe.

 

“Hellooo?” Sam waved a hand around in front of Vic’s face. “What’s going on?”

 

Vic shook his head, forcing himself to calm down. “Nothing, nothing,” he finally replied. “Curt is alright. He’s asleep now, so I guess I’m going home. Where’s Drew?”

 

Sam chuckled. “He went home an hour ago, didn’t you notice?”

 

Vic shook his head, trying not to look too embarrassed.

 

He must have failed, because Sam looked at him and smirked. “Must have been some pretty good conversation you had with that guy.”

 

“They’re not a guy,” Vic automatically responded, and it sounded a bit too defensive, considering he had just called Foster ‘dude’ a couple of minutes ago.

 

“Oh, sorry,” Sam immediately said, “my bad. Still, you were talking to them for ages! What were you even talking about?”

 

“Eyes,” Vic blurted out. Then, when the ground once more refused to open for him so he could disappear, he groaned.

 

Sam raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

 

“Oh,” Vic said, thankful at least that Sam apparently hadn’t heard him properly. “you know, just… their music, and horror games, and puns. Can we leave now?”

 

Somehow, Sam’s smile was way too knowing. It was annoying really. “Okay,” Sam said. “I just need to bring that camera to Tammi. I’ll meet you at the door.”

 

The thing was: Vic wasn’t weak, okay? He was just as tough and rational as the next guy, and he could totally handle meeting Sam at the door, even if it meant he had to walk past that couch again, where Foster was possibly still sitting. He could do this. He could totally do this.

 

Vic stepped back into the living room. His eyes immediately, accidentally locked with Foster’s who was still sitting on the couch. It was completely unfair how hopeful Foster looked _. I can so not do this, shit, fuck, shit._ Turning around wasn’t really an option though, the kitchen didn’t have any other exit.

 

A last deep breath, then Vic crossed the room and stopped in front of Foster.

 

Foster looked up at him expectantly. “So, could you find your friends?” they asked. The way their voice made his chest tighten was really unfair, Vic thought.

 

“Yeah, umm… yeah,” he replied, nervously scratching his chin. “I’m going home now.”

 

Foster got up from the couch then, putting their ukulele down and extending a hand to Vic. Vic took it. Maybe his fingers lingered on Foster’s wrist a couple of seconds too long.

 

“I hope I’ll see you around,” Foster said, and there was that winning smile again, it was infuriating, really. “It was rather pleasant talking to you, Victor,” they smirked.

 

Vic was surprised when he could honestly reply, “Yeah. Same.”

 

Their eyes met again, only shortly, but it confirmed Vic’s previous observation that Foster’s eyes were just… well, beautiful. Maybe not all surprises were unpleasant when one didn’t stick to the stuff they knew.

 

“Vic?” Sam called from across the room. “Are you coming?”

 

Vic suppressed a load of sudden urges and thoughts, shrugged instead and turned towards Sam and the door.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw how Foster’s eyes followed him. He tried hard to be cool about it. In the end, he probably failed.

 

“So…” Sam grinned when they were walking back to the school.

  
“So what?” Vic rolled his eyes.

 

Sam laughed. “Do you think Curt will be jealous?” he asked.

 

“Shut up,” Vic grumbled. Sam knew too much about Vic. It was a good thing that Vic knew too much about Sam as well. “You’re one to talk.”

 

That made Sam shut up. He frowned and stared at the ground. They walked in silence for a while.

 

“I don’t know man,” Sam said after a while. Only now Vic realized that Sam was maybe drunk. A bit at least. “I just don’t know. Everything is just confusing and strange and I don’t know shit anymore and it sucks. Doesn’t it?”

 

“Huh.” Vic didn’t know anything anymore either; it was all uncharted territory. “I’m not too sure. Maybe confusing can be good, you know? Like, it’s all weird and you don’t know shit, but it’s also a chance, you know, to get to know new stuff. Who knows, you might be pleasantly surprised.”

 

“Pleasantly surprised?” Sam snorted, and yes, he was definitely drunk. “Man, you’re a weirdo.”

 

Vic laughed. “I guess I am.”

 

Sam seemed happy with that answer and nodded. Then he threw an arm around Vic’s shoulder and pointed onwards. “Alright weirdo, let’s get home. Oren will kill me if he finds out how late I got back. He always gets so worried about me and stuff…”

 

Vic burst out laughing. “And you’re the one saying Curt and me are married!”

 

He wrapped an arm around Sam now as well, it seemed to give Sam the stability and balance he needed, and they walked back in a pleasant kind of silence.

 

Vic supposed his life rule needed some revision.


End file.
